Property in Turkey

Guleta.com'da : e-reklam

PROPERTY IN TURKEY

The year is 1966. A 20 year old English airman is sitting at his desk in the headquarters of the Central Treaty Organisation located in Ankara's historic Old Parliament Building in Ulus. An equally young Turkish colleague saunters past his desk.
Over his shoulder, as he passes, the colleague asks casually, "Youwannabuyaland - very cheap?". This particular colleague has a reputation in the office as the "Arthur Daly" of his time, augmenting his salary by dealing in dodgy currency and Camels (the cigarettes, not the animal, although this was never made quite clear).
The airman, more out of polite-ness than serious interest, asked a question or two. The land was "dowh south" and "my uncle needs to sell quickly, he needs money". "Very cheap" was the price, which when he was pressed becomes "a 100 for a big (here an expansive hand gesture) field". The colleague moved on round the other clerks, leaving the airman, his appetite whetted, to ponder.
100 was a lot of money to him but the idea of becoming a land owner was appealing. But his enthusiasm soon abated. He talked to other Turkish friends, students his own age, smart city dwellers who had never left Ankara. "No, don'tbe silly", they warned, "What do you want to buy land down there for? there's nothing down there but goats and a few farm houses; there's no water, no electricity, you can't even get a bus to go there from Ankara. What would anyone want to go there for?".
Next time the colleague mentioned the offer, the airman made excuses and politely declined. "The big field" was in fact on the coast, right by the shoreline, in a little tiny, almost non-existent, hamlet called Fethiye.
Within a couple of years, another place, up the coast a bit, suddenly showed the way. Kusadasi was just opening for business and the Turkish tourism industry was being born. (More accurately, of course, it was being re-born, because Constantinople and the Aegean sites of antiquity had been a "must-see" for any aristocratic young man or woman on their 1801 century "gap year", othenvise known as the "Grand Tour").But the airman was not the only one to make the wrong cali when it came to real estate.
Turkish inheritance law is quite specific about the way land and property is passed from generation to generation. Land is handed down through families and, for a long time, sons and daughters have enjoyed similar inheritance rights.

The only real discretion is who inherits which particular chunk of land. in the middle of the 20* century, around the time the airman was pondering land "down south", the general practice in the south and west was for the workable farm land - fertile land, capable of supporting crops and livestock - to pass to the sons.
This land was usually slightly inland, away from the salty, sandy shoreline. The sons, as the future breadwinners, were thought to have' the greater need for farmland with which to support their families. The daughters on the other hand - pre-sumably because it was thought unnecessary to give them farmland of their own (they would marry into it eventually) - were left with the "un-usable" strips of land leading to the beaches. Thus it is that many of the . wealthier land "lords" on this peninsular are, in fact, post tourism boom land "ladies".
But now, in the early years of the new millennium, a fresh boomis underway and this too relates to real estate. The boom this time is in property development and house purchase. The peninsula, in line with other coastal areas in the region ("Like Fethiye" weeps the airman), is enjoying unprecedented interest from Turkish buyers and especially from Northern European foreigners. However, the airman' s Arthur Daly colleague has vanished and the days when you could sit down for a glass of tea with a friendly local and stand up having bought a field or an authentic stone house are gone.
The favoured career move today in this area is to become an Estate Agent, Real Estate Agent, an "Emlakci" in Turkish. A few years ago everyone was making "gözleme", now they are making money from bricks and mortar. House purchase is now big business and is becoming more sophisticated by the day.
The handwritten, sun curled card in the emlakci's window has been replaced by professional glossy brochures and full colour artists' impressions; free cd roms of the estate agents' villa stock are handed out, and include tempting shots of the local amenities as a bonus; sponsored flights are regularly available, "flight paid if you decide to purchase"; slick, professional personalised tours of potential properties by native speakers from the client's own country are the norm.
Once you sign up, the service does not stop. The "grand tour" through antiquity may have disappeared but another has replaced it. The "grand tour" through the labyrinth of house purchase bureaucracy is now largely undertaken by the experienced staff of the real estate agency whilst the client sits in the shade quaffing a cool drink and pondering whether to have the pool "there" or "just a couple of metres to the left". That is when you are not being assisted with selecting the furniture and fittings for your new villa or grazing the aisles of a wonderful local DIY store.
As the property boom accelerates, and particularly as rules about foreigners buying property have eased, the Turkish Government has introduced stricter regulations governing the establishment of an Emlakci. Now anyone - Turkish or foreigner - wishing to practice has to undertake a course and pass a rigorous set of tests.
"Caveat emptor" ("buyer be-ware"), as a sensible piece of advice when considering a major purchase, is probably just as valid now as it was when some 18* century aristocrat was considering buying a "genuine" fragment of St Paul's letter to the Ephesians.
But these days, it is comforting to know that the buyer's prudent awareness is further augmented by properly qualified and regulated providers of real estate services. Most agents will insist that you use a lawyer who is conversant in a language that both buyer and seller understand.
in the meantime, our airman can only smile and muse on what might have been if he had taken up his colleague's offer ali those years ago.